


Irrational

by ScarletPenrose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Baker Street, Abuse, Deductions, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, London, London Underground, Sherlock Makes Deductions, Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 18:12:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletPenrose/pseuds/ScarletPenrose
Summary: The Holmes Family are a long standing generation of English Country Squires going back for centuries.Civil Servant is a common choice among younger sons of the gentry so Mycroft's position was his own choice to strengthen his family's social standing while using his intelligence to help those around him.Sherlock, being the youngest son, is able to do as he pleases so he chose the role of consulting detective. A strange position for such a family of secretive social upstanding but more or less respectable.The esteemed Holmes parents are proud of their sons and live a quieter life after years of doing their service to the community at large. Retiring into a lovely home that's between their youngest sons and the eldest; Sherrinford Holmes.Sherrinford has no choice but to attend to the noble family estate. He deals in International Business between several countries that touch private, government, military, and royal affairs.Sherrinford places an unusual visit to Sherlock to begrudgingly ask for his brother's help after his wife becomes missing. He has no choice but to rely on family and his brother's strange group of associates to save the woman he can't live without.





	Irrational

The scattered forest and sprawling green landscape of the English countryside dwindled down to a meticulously kept garden estate; it was surrounded by a tall shrub barrier with a small stone and wrought iron gate. Just inside this barrier was a myriad of gravel pathways between an abundance of flowers sprouting in bunches by themselves or poking through clusters of fauna. 

Standing proudly amidst this haven sat a 17th Century Cotswold style stone house. The honey gold brick was quaintly aged over the two story estate; completing its look with four chimneys raised high from a brown roof and several windows painted in white trimming across its front. A balcony jutted from the far left side of the house offsetting a connected, closed in garage area to the right.

The antiquated exterior of the home had barely been touched since its original construction to give a subtle influence of regal charm that filtered to its interior.

All of this seemed to mean nothing to the small group of dedicated Scotland Yard policemen making their way through the crime scene within the kitchen.

The once pristine white floor now had smears of dull red that trailed a pattern to a much larger, worrisome pool of partially congealed blood by the sink where the bottom half of a broken glass had planted itself in the pool; its sharp edges pointing up to the ceiling. The scattered remnants of its top half splayed around the area while the marble counter showed jars knocked over and their contents spilled over. Utensils were far from where they should be in their positions across the back half of the kitchen and the flour sack had been ripped open to leave its dust in an explosive pattern along the back door that was wide open.

Camera flashes, evidence tagged and bagged, and radios going off with the low buzz of voices were the sounds that filled the air while the Lord of the House stood just outside the scene.

“You found the house this way when you returned?” the Inspector questioned him in a tone that sounded like he had to repeat himself and Sherrinford Holmes blinked his attention away from the spectacle that had been going on for the better part of an hour to say “Yes”. “What time did you return?” the Inspector started scribbling away in his personal pad as he answered “Six am, return flight from Dubai. The flight records at Rippleton airfield will check out” “You say that as if we wouldn’t believe you” the man eyed him with question. 

“The spouse is always the first to be looked at, Inspector. I’m well aware of your protocols. I’ll shorten this for you to say that she was alone, the staff were given time off for the weekend, and yes, I have many enemies. I don’t have a short list for you because I’m not entirely sure who would be so bold as to come into my house and take my wife” Sherrinford spoke pointedly as his chest tightened with his hands balling up into his coat pockets. The Inspector wrote the information down with haste before speaking in a more placating tone “I’m sorry, Lord Holmes. I know how difficult this must be for you. .” “I know you’re trying to help but don’t” Sherrinford tightened his jaw as his eyes trailed the scene with his stomach turning at knowing how hard his wife fought against her assailants. 

The living area door opened with a bang and the voice of George, the family butler since he was a child, demanded “Let me pass you imbeciles!” “Hey, you can’t be in here!” the Inspector started shouting as a few of Scotland Yard’s best tried restraining the fifty four year old who still had a surprising amount of strength for his vocation. “He’s part of staff, he’s allowed” Sherrinford moved toward the small group that had now distracted half the team in the kitchen into peering their way. The Inspector called off members of his team for George to straighten his uniform with a snort before addressing him “Sir, what has happened?”. “The Lady of the House has gone missing” Sherrinford informed with no small amount of heat and regret to his voice for the butler to turn slightly pale in asking “Sir?” “We can’t discuss details as of right now until everyone checks out. I need your full staff on site for questioning and anyone else who had access to this house in the last two days” the Inspector shut down any line of questions that would have passed between them. “George, make the phone calls and give no details. We need to keep this as quiet as we can for as long as we can” Sherrinford requested to the butler who gave a curt nod “Very good, sir” before crossing the dining room, only giving momentary pause at seeing the state of the kitchen with his eyes widening a fraction, and disappeared behind another door that lead to a small parlor.

“Though I still have to question him, you’re sure he had nothing to do with this?” the Inspector came up beside him with a low tone as if the butler were standing in the room to hear. “No, George has been with my family for nearly thirty years. He’s very loyal and adores my wife” Sherrinford vouched for his butler to see the man scribble more in his note pad. 

“Sir. .sir!” a uniformed man pushed his way through the matching uniformed figures at the living area door to stop before the Inspector to declare “Porter found tire tracks through the back field with more. .ah, more blood”. The young rookie seemed to realize whose presence he was in to get an apologetic tone to his voice and the Inspector snapped his fingers at a nearby man with a camera “You, follow him and take pictures of the tire tracks. I want any details on those tracks we can get within hours” “Yes, sir” the rookie stumbled back but caught himself on the camera man before the two rushed out to do their job. The Inspector left him alone to check out the information that he had been given since Scotland Yard’s arrival which gave him a moment to reflect on what he knew.

The staff had been given the weekend off to let he and his wife have time to themselves.  
He had been called away on emergency business in Dubai and left the country at seven pm.  
He last spoke to his wife Saturday evening at 11 pm with the phone call lasting forty-two minutes.  
He arrived back in the country three hours earlier at six am.  
The blood congeal on the floor told him a window of anywhere from four to sixteen hours of its presence.  
She’d been missing for less than day and with amount of power most of his enemies had it would take too long to figure out who had been stupid enough to do this on his own.

Sherrinford felt his breathing become short with his muscles tensing as his mind tried to taunt him with the worst scenario. He couldn’t do this, he had to keep himself together, but his emotions were starting to break through the wall he had put up since coming across the scene. He tried to keep himself clear for her but he understood the natural responses and reactions were going to happen against his wishes.

He was too close which made him useless in this scenario. 

“Sir, shall I phone your family?” George’s voice broke over his ears as he steadied himself against the dining room table. His family. God, her family. He’d have to notify them both and neither one was a choice over the other in the terms of how this was going to go over.

Though he knew who he needed to speak with in person.

“George, I’m going into the City. Take care of things here until I get back” he pulled his dark coat tighter over himself to meet the butler’s eyes who gave a solemn look “Yes, sir”.

Sherrinford finished his statement with the Inspector after he had checked out his alibi with the airline. The Inspector informed him that Scotland Yard would do their very best in finding his wife and bringing her kidnapper’s to justice.

Sherrinford knew that their efforts would be useless. He needed better than the best.

He needed Sherlock.


End file.
